


Light it Up

by DollyPop



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Canon Jewish Character, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Humor, Jewish Character, Kissing, Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-12
Updated: 2017-01-12
Packaged: 2018-09-17 00:14:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9295838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DollyPop/pseuds/DollyPop
Summary: Marie was 100%, absolutely, irrevocably punk.Even if Stein's not convinced.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [katyfaise](https://archiveofourown.org/users/katyfaise/gifts), [messofthejess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/messofthejess/gifts).



“ABBA is _totally_ punk!” Marie argued, pouting as Stein slowly released the smoke in his mouth. After a moment, his slightly bloodshot eyes rolled to focus on her.

“Not.”

“How come?”

“Because,” he said simply, leaning back and taking another drag from his joint. “They’re disco.”

Marie pouted. “Disco can be super punk.”

Stein laughed, then, the kind of raggedy chuckle that unnerved most people, and Marie tried to keep the stern expression on her face before she finally cracked at the ridiculousness of it all. 

Here she was, up in his room, surrounded by several bags of Kettle Cooked potato chips, Rold Gold pretzles, and enough of his mother’s cookies to drown in. According to Golda, Kosher snacks were harder to find than Marie’d ever given thought to, but Stein still had a stash that could make Marie cross her eyes, if she still had two of them. 

By all accounts, it was stupid and she didn’t have too much right to be with him in that moment, anyway. She didn’t smoke but that didn’t mean that _he_ was going to give up the habit, so she couldn’t say she was just trying to bum weed off of him. And, beyond that, truth be told, they looked like a mismatched pair, like shoes not meant to be in the same box. She was still in her clean, well pressed pleated skirt and yellow blouse, but he was in raggedy jeans that had seen better days and a t-shirt she swore wasn’t supposed to be _that_ distressed. 

And here they were, arguing about ABBA. 

“You know, I like you better when you’re less of a jerk about stuff like this,” she giggled, stretching her legs out and knocking her Mary Janes against his sneakers. 

“Hmmm?”

“Disco can _so_ be punk.”

“Mmmmmhm,” he hummed at her, exhaling a smoke ring. He once told her he wanted to be able to smoke them in the shape of a skull, but she figured that was just ridiculous. She waited for him to take in another drag, holding it in as he lazily smiled at her, retaining the smoke. “Like you’re punk?”

“I’m totally punk!” she squeaked out, and Stein snorted, some of the smoke coming out of his nose, like a dragon. “Oi! You don’t make the rules for what punk is.”

“Oi, hm? You’ve been hanging around my mother too much.”

Marie pinked slightly. “Shut up.”

“Are you coming to Temple with us, too?”

“Psh, stop being an ass!”

“If that’s why you’re not smoking, weed’s kosher. I asked my Rabbi.”

“You asked your _Rabbi_ about _weed?”_

Stein simply shrugged. “Someone had to.”

“Is Kosher punk?” Marie asked, instead, and Stein tilted his head as though he were legitimately contemplating the question. 

“Yes,” he answered after a moment, and Marie made an offended noise. 

“Kosher is punk but I’m not?”

“Maybe if you convert,” he teased, and she nudged him, again, feeling the giggle fizz up in her throat. 

“ _Ass,”_ she accused, but he was already laughing again, too, in too good a mood. “Oh, scoot over. I want a cookie.”

He’d hoarded the entire plate of them as soon as they got into his room, and Stein watched as she struggled onto her knees, crawling over and grabbing up three cookies at once before she plopped down next to him, shoving some of them in her mouth and getting crumbs all down the front of her blouse.

“Graceful,” he commented, and Marie simply rolled her eye, butting his arm with her shoulder.

“I didn’t ask for a comment,” she said, but her mouth was full and it came out like gibberish, making him giggle again, holding the joint off to the side. 

“What was that?” he teased, but instead of swallowing, she merely blew cookie crumbs in his face, trying not to grin when he made something that sounded like a squawk. “At least chew your food. It’s why you have _molars,”_ he commented, and Marie opened her mouth so he could see just how well she knew how to chew. Of course, Stein being Stein, only lifted his brow, peering into her mouth. “I think you might be developing a cavity-”

Well, that was the end of _that._ Marie snapped her mouth closed and looked aghast, but Stein seemed more amused than anything else.

“I don’t know why I hang out with you,” she said as soon as she swallowed, but Stein only continued chuckling, likely because he didn’t know, either.

“Must be my charm and charisma.”

“What charm and charisma?“ she snorted, and she brushed some crumbs off of his shirt. “You’re a mess.”

“Being a mess is punk.”

“Yeah, yeah. Sure. What else is punk? Cookies?”

“If you share them,” he said, and absentmindedly his thumb came to her face, cleaning up some of the chocolate she’d gotten over it before he stuck it into his mouth, leaving her cheeks burning. 

“I- that was so cheesy!” she accused, but he only smiled at her lazily. Marie rolled her eye, feeling bold. Maybe that was why she liked being around him when he was high. He was so much more physical. “Don’t half-ass it if you’re gonna do that.”

“Hmmm?”

She swore the blush was collecting down her neck, spreading over her chest and shoulders. “Well? Are you gonna kiss me, or what?”

“Do you have a cookie in your mouth?”

“I- didn’t realize that was a prerequisite.”

He looked dead serious as he nodded. “Required.”

“Well, maybe _you_ should put a cookie in _your_ mouth, then.”

He seemed to mull it over as he looked over the tray and grabbed one up, shoving it in his mouth unceremoniously. And, so that she didn’t lose her nerve, she took a deep breath in and leaned forward, grabbing him by the shoulder for stability as she sloppily laid a kiss on his mouth, tasting chocolate. 

She didn’t care _what_ he said. Maybe _she_ wasn’t punk, but her kisses certainly were. 


End file.
